Spiritual realm is as real as quantum physics, yet the parameters according to which it operates are so unique that nothing better but the code name MIRACLES was created to describe it. Miracles are granted by the Boss of the company, and for example, magick, is also similar wish granting system, but in this case your wish is granted by infamous local manager of some shady branch, which usually ends in disaster, might take time to notice though. Magick is like a clickbait, fast and furious for spiritual highway noobies. AC/DC for ADD. The fear of authorities is a symptom that grown up children of alcoholics/addicts share; parents who fucked up too many times without repenting. Fear of talking directly with the Boss leads to reaching out to me, a secretary. That’s true, it’s my job to check out incoming messages. So much spam. Trying to render the face of the sender, wandering what kind of fish catches the bait. Another call, another message. They can only reach this sector via wi-fi, it’s a top floor, well isolated, the entrance and windows stamped with oil. We were hired to work as the BS detectors. If no BS - we act, send help. If it’s spam, it is ignored and deleted. The competitors get truly creative. The messages start sounding  innocent, they try to catch attention with personalized compliments, mentioning impressive amounts of currency and attaching pictures of their body parts. They pretend to be long-time-no-see friends, lost relatives, old co-workers, lovers from the past lives, cousins, princes from the foreign lands, designers, ceo’s,  investors, oh, so many different roles, and all stink the same. 
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​“Contacting you through this medium is not with the intention to delve into your privacy without caution or distract you with my intents and purposeful endeavour.  I have decided to reach you with the hope of building a relationship of trust, reliance and confidence which you will come to understand and appreciate in the near future.”

They all come with some kind of great proposals. Ready to improve something in your life, promising prosperity and something forever lasting. Something only they can provide. Very self confident, very charming. Great actors. Great entertainers. Eloquent speakers. Charming, charismatic characters. Sometimes pretending to be weaker than they are so would invoke some pity, fake-humble, fake-weak. The goal is to get in. Then the virus spreads. Red flags were there. Colored in blood of the victims that swallowed the hook. A hand that was typing had a harpoon tattoo. A mad man, who became a hunter because of virus, later became a hero, because destroyed the great white whale. The whale was in his natural habitat, the man came and distorted reality. Desperate need for ovations. Virus has to spread, it is programmed this way, not knowing the answer WHY, without knowing any coding it might look just as unspeakable evil. The truth is an old man against the mill. The arrows fly by and fall into the pit, where the archers end up themselves sooner than later. 

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​-The greatest thing that happened in my life was a divorce.
-Really? I thought the greatest thing was that you got hired in our department by the Boss Himself. 
You know what I miss? Nothing, wouldn’t go a second back in time, that’s how I love my job. I love my Boss, and I would rather die than leave my workplace. 

- Can you call my mom?
- I thought you wanted to get our Salvation Package. 
- Please?? Please
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The woman seemed stressed, she said she doesn't believe our Boss is running this company. I could not help her. Maybe her mom can. Some people mix our services. There are many lost kids in this world, who were infected with the virus, and now they run around, playing Hell’s kitchen, you can see them from far away, they wear red cheeks, talk fast, bables. Some of them don’t even know that there’s the top floor, all they see is the ceilings, the brick wall, another brick in the wall. Playing resistance still as grown ups. They got a joke on themselves, by denying the system they became representatives of the riot squad, ground agents, working with pyramid schemes. We do give away travel tickets for those who wants to depart from Egypt. Whenever you’re ready, kid.

Do not enter the path of the wicked, and do not walk in the way of the evil.
Avoid it; do not go on it; turn away from it and pass on. (Proverbs 4:14-15)

​The fishers of wi-fi and BS sales will become fishers of men. Or will starve to death. 

There’s something about the weight of credibility that identifying with the image of the Old Man brings. 

Do not deceive yourselves. If any of you think you are wise by the standards of this age, you should become “fools” so that you may become wise. 1 Corinthians 3:18 | NIV |

The vessel of human body serves well to capture the information that is passing through it if trained well in awareness. Yet some things are dangerous to hold on to, and some things are lifesaving material. Ability to make a beneficial choice is like a gamble if not knowing self and not knowing who you are representing. “Whatever the mind believes - it becomes its reality”, that’s a dangerous idea, and could be quite upsetting, disempowering the notion of the existence of the established principles of life’s game. ​

First, you have a question. A clear question. Then, you tune in, perform a certain action that opens you up for receiving information. Then you listen. That’s how it work. In the game instruction it is written:

If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. (James 1:5)

Yet, knowing the answers rarely benefits the one who had the question. The heavy weight of knowing wears the bones and multiplies the grey hair on the head. “The more you know - the faster you’ll die”, that’s the old lithuanian saying. What worth it has knowing if the Moon is a hologram? If it is hollow and doesn’t spin. If it is a projection, a simulation, and we live in Truman like world? This is information has no worth for those who work hard everyday to survive, it’s a privilege that some, self proclaimed philosophers and infamous conspiracy theorists have time to discuss it. Yet, it will always remain the field in which artists will find inspiration, doomsday revelations are undoubtedly the source for creativity. Curiosity killed the cat, but can the artist survive? What if refusing the labels of “conspiracy” and analysing the data without emotional attachments? Whether that be old scripture or Youtube record. The gold shines in the ashes, and the truth is hidden in the plain sight. Intelect might want to look for more complicated patterns, but the fool takes it as it is, and joke is on the ones who didn’t when the prophecy is confirmed. But usually it is too late. So we have the sequence of songs, psalms, poetry and drawings, canvas and illustrations, which looked so foolish when they were released, and so meaningful after the predicted event took place. Visionary artist suffers because of the gift-curse, but others suffers from metaphysical blindness, and you decide which one is worse. 

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Drawings of the flying machine looks ridiculous for those who live in the dark ages. The vessel which received the information of what is not existing (yet) pays the price of rejection and ridiculing, but is praised many years after. This pattern continues through existence of human kind. 

hide-in-plain-sight
Verb
(third-person singular simple present hides, present participle hiding, simple past and past participle hidden)

‘Don’t wanna ruin your day, Harry,’- she looked directly into his eyes when passing a cup of tea, - but all good stuff is in the Third Heaven, from which data access are now being blocked. 
“Spill the tea”, he said, looking worn down, yet determined. 

ELON Musk has successfully launched a rocket containing 60 Starlink into satellites into space – after cancelling an attempt earlier this week due to the weather. ... Earlier today, a 229-foot-tall Falcon 9 rocket took 60 satellites into space, where they will orbit 341 miles above Earth.

- But why? 
- I say what what in the butt. Well, it's useful for the other team. It's like when you go on Youtube and want to listen to music or watch something and they force you to watch a commercial, and if you won't press 'skip ad" you'll end up hearing it all, or maybe even buying the stuff they advertise. It's all about BUYING INTO IT. We have up a lot of information about ourselves already, but there's still something they can't control, but they are working on it. Now we are made addicted to using device, but once it is in us, we are tuned into their channel for literally forever. People always were vessels for the game to play itself, there were always two teams. Black and white. The black team is very up to date, and the white team has old school methods, like direct verbal data transmission which is most effective and still keeps data in the paper covers. I mean, it is already decided, which team wins, the game is pre-planned, but it has to play itself till the end, and for players to do their roles well, the emotions are being given. Emotions makes it feel that it is more real. Pain and suffering helps to switch teams, either for good or for bad. Do you want some popcorns? 
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She was chill and Harry could not understand why. He had a scar on his face, resembling a lightning, and he was known as a student of certain type of arts, activity that doesn't grant permission to enter the Third Heaven. Of course he had questions. The peace that she had was frightening to him, she knew something he didn't. How is that possible? And they used to be classmates. Solving the riddles together. Now she seemed lightyears away, yet, she was sitting in front of him, sketching something on paper. 

Decoding words. It’s interesting that the word “magic” finds place in the science article. And the title for artificial sun is SynLight. SYN LIGHT. SIN LIGHT. The ones who are not noobies know, what is Gematria and what it is used for. When you work for the Black (Magick)| Team, that’s what you use to code. Anyone who likes to fuck with reality uses it, the ones who spent time imposing their will on others using the mediums of entertainment, news, anything really. The rule is such, that one has to announce the trick before performing it. Sometimes it’s done using ‘in your face’ principle, sometimes via cartoons, sometimes using more complicated codes, hidden meanings coded via Gematria. Sometimes codes of sign language, symbols, color codes, all kind of tricks are in that hat of Matt. Sin light spreads over the Sin City. The helicopter crashes, just like two years ago in cartoon. Cartoons are more accurate than news. ​

The trick is announced. The plan is written in the stone. The message in the plain sight. ​

Martin has been hectored for his association with the Guidestones. “Some evangelicals, of which I am one, claim it’s the work of the devil and the Antichrist,” he explains. Conspiracy theorists, meanwhile, claim the stones are the work of the New World Order, a purported global elite that intends to depopulate the world through controlled genocide and then rule it. In 2008, vandals defaced the surface of the slabs, spray-painting “Jesus will beat u satanist” and “No one world government.”

One of the monument’s most prominent conspiracy theorists is computer analyst Van Smith, of Arkansas. His website, Van’s Hardware, offers extensive analysis of the stones.
“The purpose of the monument’s ten edicts,” Smith wrote me by email, “is to establish the groundwork for a totalitarian global government. The proportions of the stones predict the exact height in feet of Dubai’s Burj Khalifa, now the world’s tallest building. Both the Guidestones and the Burj allude to the Tower of Babel. "

'Prepare for the event. He's coming back. Goodbye, Harry, you fell like a lightning from the sky, but He saved me.'

He was sitting alone in the room. A house full of devices and only Siri and Alexa to talk with, his space was occupied by junk, unsuitable to sustain life, a beating heart. He could buy everything, but not the escape. In order to escape the game you had to humble yourself enough and admit, that you need a code 'Saviour'. Asking for help?  That was his least favorite activity, unless it involved sexual favors. So he was sitting there, remembering her voice, when she was correcting him, asking not to scream, saying "Tone!". As if she wanted to arrange his chaos into harmony by tuning the frequencies at which his particles vibrated. But it's not a task she's capable of doing. That's the job of the one that is coming.

- Will you open the doors? 

He was sitting with the headphones. Creating music and listening it on repeat. It is the hardest to hear him knock for the ones who play Creators and forgets that themselves were created. Technology enables pleasant experience, directly transmitting the chill tunes from the second Heaven, so we would forget it all about the Second Coming. 

​

"So fast", somebody commented on the 7th Symphony of Beethoven.
Did he think so as he wrote it? Was it to surprise or to amaze anyone but self?

Why so complicated? One word comes to my mind - boredom. Mind complicates things of boredom. And it's just a matter of preference where we direct that excessive energy. Which area of life will I complicate today? Whether that be my relationship, work or art, or? The complicity of multilayered themes, overlapping, yet, remaining independent in its core, the symphony plays out itself as a metaphor of life, and the casual listeners are speechless, the experts intrigued, the artists inspired, the dull mind unmoved. The frequency at which the organism vibrates recognizes similar frequency without words, that's physics, causing the resonance. 
​
Not everyone attending classic concert is functioning at multiple thinking patterns that are playing itself out in symphony. Some just pretend. And the couple carefully chosen questions unveil the truth. one look into the eyes, one look into the soul. The imitators flee. Goodbye, Elise. Heard this melody so many times, as if Elise just stands at the door, maybe she never wanted to leave, yet, she was told "Goodbye"? Elise as Eve, was told to leave by the Creator. (sounds unfair, isn'?) Without her leaving the masterpiece loses its meaning. Imagine, we all got sad imagining how painful for her was to leave and she was just sitting here all the time in the room, "Hi". We feel betrayed, and almost want her gone, so we would be able to experience the drama, the harsh emotions cause by grief of losing her, the longing turning to nostalgic melody. Remember of "those old good days", when she was holding our hand?

But that is a story I invented, because the truth is she was never here, she never came, or if she came, she never stayed, and more than that, forget the wedding, she refused. And Creator was sitting alone at the piano and finding comfort in these sound vibrations, who held his lonely heart. The music of the spheres. Plot twist. Impossible dream, unfulfilled wish, the torture of unreachable bled into the piano sheets. It is not a rage song, he doesn't swear. He just documents his poor choice of love, or is it great choice, a noble choice, to love without expectations that love will be returned?  

“If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do that. And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, expecting to be repaid in full. But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. " (Luke 6:32-36 )

"Für Elise" (German for For Elise) is the common name of the "Bagatelle in A minor", written by Ludwig van Beethoven in 1810. The song was written for a lady called Therese (nicknamed Elise) that Beethoven wanted to marry in 1810. Therese did not want to marry him.

The shadow of the unfulfilled love desires colors the piece of art with timeless common denominator for humanity - suffering. Yet, if Beethoven knew his worth in the eyes in God, would he had spent his days composing the memory of tragic loss? Or maybe it was a gift for Elise, agape farewell. 

“The heart is deceitful above all things, And desperately wicked; Who can know it? (Jeremiah 17:9)

Spending days remembering people who left our lives, creating art to document, immortalize it, imprint it in the canvas of time, is it a way to talk about common human experiences or just dance with your own self-pity, or it is the method to enable creativity, or is the heart unconsciously is seeking such experiences so from it could flow such a perfect yet decadent tunes for our own entertainment? 

​Why horror movies, portraying lives of the psychopaths, are so often using classical music? Perhaps because the mind of the advanced serial killer is somehow resembling the mind of the musical genius, who can play complicated game of sounds. And a killer plays complicated game of other's lives. That's the danger of intellect, the more it advances the more boredom it experiences, not finding equivalent resonance in the surroundings, therefore prone to creating a complex structure, a plot, a monument, a Tower of Babel. I bet it was beautiful, yet it wasn't  one and only in Babylon  that was built and destroyed. The towers are built in the head non stop where the civilization marches, leaving its mark, mark of the Beast.

But wait, there was nothing like that in the story of Elias. Or was it the seed of the Beast that killed him? We are the pot full of dirt, both divine and demonic seeds are being planted. Roses and weeds. Elias. The Greek form of the Hebrew Elijah, meaning Jehovah is God. A boy that was a town's weirdo, mocked and experienced the betrayal, the unfulfilled love desire. Used his time to produce the sounds that moved souls and yet, died tragically. Tragic genius becomes a hero, when using the tools of art to express the destiny. And others, gifted with complicity men, who choose to play with the lives of others, become serial killers, like Hannibal Lecter, whose character was also a big fan of classical music. Unable to produce art from loving heart - they destroy the art God created. The town's fool becomes a legend. 

The Fool doesn't build the Tower of Babel, he stays isolated. In order to build the tower you have to gather many helping hands, and the Fool spends time using his hands to play. Not because of the desire to get closer to heavens, he already came from there, he knows the name of the most high, he doesn't need to climb up over the heads, to prove anything, he is connected, via the heart, from which pours the announcement of the tragedy yet to come. Just for the human drama, just to teach the lesson, which nobody learns in any other way but empirical one. The talent to reveal prophecies and the distraction of the wicked heart desires willing to destroy the messenger, playing duo. The Fool knows the tower will fall, and that makes him Genius in disguise. And he stay in the role till it happens. 

 The Lord Almighty has a day in store for all the proud and lofty, for all that is exalted (and they will be humbled).
(​Isaiah 2:12-22)

It is one thing to notice that the apple fell from the tree. And another thing is to write down the formula of that happening. Does complication leads to sadness and boredom leads to complication? There was no complication in the Garden, just joyful peaceful existence and simplicity. And yet the mind got tempted to know more. With that wish came the doom. Knowing more obviously didn't lead to more joyful life. And as we run around trying to create our own Heaven on Earth, isn't that urge just a synthetic attempt to overcompensate which once was lost? The tunnel turns to circle, and as Christ reaches bottom, where is seen as a Fool, mocked and killed, then he rises again as a King. So is Elias, the organ player, the one who's name claims that Jehovah is God. The Fool is the only one who dares to speak truth, as in the fairytale, telling that the king has no clothes. And the truth liberates. And the game of life plays itself again. Through different vessels, we witness the repetition. Pride comes before the fall, therefore the kings lose their positions. And those who were seen as fools rise and sit in the thrones. Yet those thrones are sometimes in heaven, because the game is more interesting when you just have a promise of possibility to win eternity, it keeps many guessing and more desperate yet fascinating combinations appear on the table. Fortune is a blind faith. A lover of truth is the lover of game creator (spent a lifetime finding out it was not made in China) and that's what grants the victory, according to the game's instruction. I still have to make my move. Even knowing it will hurt.  Even if the right moves that leads to success I make on the board are now obscured the clouds of dusts, caused by rapid moves of other players. The sheep is less attractive than wolf, as self destructive instincts may look more cool in your twenties than a cup of warm milk, both leading to sleep. Sleep symbolizes death, and that is the entrance To the nightclub, or the garden, depending for which team you've been playing. Black leather looks cool, but in the end of the day, who doesn't want to win? So I drink my milk and roll into the wool. Even if that means a swagrifice. 
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​- Shaltmira.